


Xanax Nation

by ivyfic



Category: American Vandal (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 17:24:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17047412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyfic/pseuds/ivyfic
Summary: "Then, there's Xanax Nation. Indescribably shitty."





	Xanax Nation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mosca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mosca/gifts).



“It’ll be like Prozac Nation.”

“Wasn’t she, like, actually depressed in that?”

“Or like Fast Food Nation.”

“Was that the one where he ate McDonald’s for a year?”

“No, that was Supersize Me—anyway, that’s not the point.”

Peter and Sam were sitting in the media lab of Hanover High. The best part about freshman year—so far the only good part—was getting onto the crew for the morning show. And, even better, they’d signed out a camera

“And the point is, you’re going to take Xanax and drink alcohol,” Sam said.

“Yes,” Peter replied.

“For journalism.”

“Yes.”

“Dude, this is just going to be like all the other documentaries you’ve shot. You’ll put it up on youtube, and you’ll get three hits.”

“Horrors of the Digital World got more than that!”

Sam pulls out his phone to check. “Sorry—53 hits. Probably mostly looking at your mom.”

“Give me that,” Peter made a grab for the phone, but Sam easily dodged. “This one’s going to be better, though. I’ve been watching youtube tutorials, I got that reflector for my birthday—and we’re going to be using actual equipment this time.”

“Right, cause it was such a great choice to film the last one using the fisheye effect on your phone.”

“That was to evoke the omnipresent surveillance of the—”

“Alright, alright! So this time it will look really good. As you take Xanax and drink.”

“There’s an epidemic. We have to catalogue it.”

Sam paused. “By you taking drugs.”

“There’s a long history of journalists putting themselves into the situations they’re reporting on. Nellie Bly and the madhouse. That dude and Supersize Me.”

“I thought this wasn’t Supersize Me.”

Peter threw up his hands. “Whatever! Just. I need a camera man. Are you going to help me?”

“You’re going to get stoned for science—I mean journalism? I am absolutely going to help me.”

~*~

“Not all of these are Xanax,” Sam said, looking at the four bottles Peter had just shoved into his hands. “Does this one actually say placebo?”

“That’s what these are for,” Peter said, handing him four printed labels.

“These have emojis on them.”

“Right. So you put the labels on the bottles so I don’t know what they are.”

“Okay,” Sam said dubiously and started peeling a label.

“No! I can see what you’re doing. The point is I’m not supposed to be able to tell the difference.”

“Okaaaaay,” Sam said, turning around.

“And you have to write it down. So *you* know what I’m taking.”

“And why are we doing this?”

“It’s like a control. Like a double blind study. So that we can see what the real effect of the Xanax is.”

“Wouldn’t you need, like, more than one person for that?” Sam said, hunched over the bottles and labels. “And, wait, isn’t mixing Xanax and alcohol really dangerous?”

“Not in the doses I’m going to take.”

“Sure.” Sam stared and Peter.

“I promise.”

“One sec,” Sam said, pulling out his phone. “Hey, Gabbie? You did lifeguard training this sumer, right? … Uh-huh. So you know rescue breathing and stuff like that. No! No! That totally wasn’t a—That wasn’t what I—I mean, that would be like a really weird booty call, you know, if I even wanted to—which I don’t—so—”

“—”

“So, anyway, would you want to come hang out at Peter’s? It’s just that it might be useful for someone here to know—yeah. No. I know. We’re totally weird.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “That was unnecessary.”

“Well, we are weird.”

~*~

“No you have to—didn’t you read the manual?—the red light has to be—okay, it’s on. I think it’s on.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Sam said.

“Did you take the lens cap off?”

“Dude, I can see the digital display on the back. I haven’t left the lens cap on.”

“Don’t you guys need one of those like clapping board things?” Gabbie said, leaning against the bathroom counter, chewing a twizzler.

“Oh—oh—good reminder,” Peter said, then clapped his hands in front of the camera.

“Right, so, are you gonna, like, get high now?” Gabbie said.

Peter ignored her. “Come in close and get a shot of my the bottles, and then I’ll pick one, and keep the camera on me.”

“Okay, man.” Sam said. “Wait—okay—I think I’ve got the autofocus right—okay—go.”

Peter hovered his hands over the bottles, picking one up.

“Wait, stop,” Sam said, straightening up. “Gabbie, you’re in the shot. I can see your reflection in the mirror.”

Gabbie shrugged, then moved out into the hall.

“Okay, go again.”

~*~

“Shouldn’t something be happening by now?” Gabbie said.

“Sssh!” Sam waved his hand at her, keeping his attention on the camera.

“I think—I think I feel lightheaded.” Peter said.

“Okay,” Sam said encouragingly, going for the close up.

“Wait, no. I skipped lunch today.”

“Can we all just admit this was a dumb idea?” Gabbie said.

~*~

“Sam, Sam, check it out.” Peter approached Sam in between classes, waving a piece of paper. It had been a week since the Xanax filming session and Sam had almost entirely forgotten about it.

“What’s that?”

“It’s the script.”

“Script? For what?”

“You know, Xanax Nation.”

“You’re still making that? We shot like an hour of you standing in your bathroom looking like you had to take a shit. Who’s going to watch that?”

“I figured it out,” Peter said. “I just need to insert some graphics and some stock footage of like pills and things, and with the right voiceover, it’ll be great.”

Sam grabbed the paper.

_The doctors tell you not to mix alcohol and medication. That it can be dangerous—even deadly. But are they telling the truth? Or is this just part of the elaborate conspiracy to keep people from drinking, one step towards the next Prohibition?_

“I’m pretty sure that they’re telling the truth,” Sam said.

“Well I know that, but you have to write a hook, you know? You have to keep them listening.”

“And your hook is that doctors telling you not to overdose is a conspiracy to bring back Prohibition.”

~*~

“u have 11 hits already!”

The text popped up on Peter’s phone. “10 of them are mine” he texted back.

“1s me”

A moment later: “wait—ur mom didn’t even watch???”


End file.
